


What Do You Do with 87 Tacos

by Kaelynisfree



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen, Kirkwall crew - Freeform, Not a modern AU, Taco Bell, crunchy tacos, only crunchy tacos, the only taco bell in thedas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:11:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5635111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaelynisfree/pseuds/Kaelynisfree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You bet your friend can't eat them all without getting sick, of course!</p><p>The Krew goes to Taco Bell for a quick meal after a run on the wounded coast. Hawke is in charge of ordering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Do You Do with 87 Tacos

**Author's Note:**

> A modern au, but not really. Aveline has a cell phone. Varric knows what a nerf gun is. Everything else is normal. Oh, except that they're in a taco bell.

No one is sure how, but they manage to fit six in the small booth at the Taco Bell.

The group is a bit too large for the booth, with Varric and Fenris sandwiching Merrill on one side, and Aveline and Anders sharing the other- Isabela sprawled across the mage and the guard captain’s laps. The pirate queen nuzzles her face into the mage's feather ruffles with a yawn, wholly uninterested in anything but sleep. Anders tries not to stir under her weight because he is wholly uninterested in waking her up. She was quite the nuisance when she was awake, what with her wandering words and equally wandering hands. This is a nice reprieve.

Aveline keeps herself occupied with her phone, in a half-hearted conversation with her husband, pausing every once and a while to pull Isabela's legs back onto her lap when they slip. Merrill rests her head on Varric’s shoulder, not out cold like Isabela, but getting there. Fenris, of course, attempts to put as much room between him and the blood mage as possible.

Varric is the first one to worry that Hawke has been gone long enough for people to start falling asleep. He tries to look over the booth without jostling Merrill, but can’t seem to see over Anders.

“You see Hawke, Broody?”

Fenris cranes his neck to get a look, only to have Hawke turn the corner with their meal in tow.

Hawke wears a triumphant grin, and holds a tray piled high with tacos. “This is the most they’d sell me,” and the receipt flutters to the table.

Anders snatches it up quickly. “Eighty-seven?! That's almost fifteen tacos each, Hawke.”

Merrill frowns, attempting to hide her displeasure. “I don't think I can eat that many tacos!”

Varric, who is completely thrilled by this turn of events, nudges Merrill with his elbow. “Don't worry, Daisy, I'll eat the ones you can’t.”

Her expression brightens immeasurably. “Really?”

He laughs. “Of course.”

Fenris is appalled by the growing number of tacos that Hawke is still setting down on the table in front of them. Hawke takes four trips to the counter and back. "87 crunchy tacos," he says, as if acknowledging them will make them go away.

Isabela yawns, sitting up from her relaxed position on Anders. "They're all crunchy? I rather like the soft ones."

Fenris scowls. “I’d have thought you would prefer things that were hard.”

Izzy laughs, brushing feathers from her face. She definitely was going to ignore that drool spot on Anders’ cowl.

“No, no, tacos are better when they’re soft. I like the feel of them in my mouth.” The way she licks her lips is almost obscene. Not almost. Merrill blushes.

Varric grabs the receipt from the table, frowning. “Don't tell me you spent every last penny from the run on this.”

Sheepish, Hawke shrugs before letting the change clatter on the table. “Alright. I won’t. Not the last pennies, anyway.”

“You've got to be kidding me.”

“It's very kind of Hawke to treat us!”

“It’s not exactly treating us when it’s all using our own money,” Varric grumbles, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Aveline is the first one to reach forward, unwrapping the taco as she brings it closer to her. “Did you at least grab sauce?” She asks, ever practical.

Hawke reaches into a pocket, digging around but eventually pulling out a handful of colorful sauce packets. When dropped, they plop gently onto the table. And the tacos. Mostly onto the tacos.

Everyone else takes this as their cue to start grabbing tacos and sauce. Hawke waits a moment before squeezing into the booth, enjoying the view of everyone beginning to squabble over the food.

Merrill manages to put away 6, Anders 2, Varric 5, Isabela 3-5, and Aveline 4, but hers are all with super extra hot fire sauce, and everyone agrees that makes it count as at least six, if not seven. Nobody manages to count how many Fenris eats. They know he ate some, but how many is a mystery to them all.

They eat in silence at first, everyone settling back and enjoying the atmosphere. The pile is slightly diminished before the conversation starts back up.

“We should donate the rest of these,” Anders suggests.

“That’s a great idea!” Merrill gushes.

“I wonder...” muses Hawke. “I wonder if Bianca could launch one. We should try it, Varric.”

Varric crumples up a wrapper and chucks it at Hawke’s head. “Bianca is a work of art, not some dollar store _nerf gun_.”

Hawke dips to the side, managing to dodge the projectile.

“Why give them away when you could sell them for money?” Of course, Izzy’s idea doesn’t really go over well with the rest of the group.

Over the sounds of the arguing, Hawke reaches over, and scoops up the rest of their own share. “Well, you guys can do whatever you want with your share. I’m going to eat all of mine,” Hawke declares.

There is a shocked silence.

Aveline tuts. “Hawke, you’ll make yourself sick.”

“I fought an ogre once, Aveline. A dragon. An Arishok. I can defeat 15 measly tacos.”

Isabela calls out, “3 tacos says Hawke pukes by Taco 9!”

Merrill slams her tiny fist on the table. It’s adorable. “I think Isabela is wrong. I believe in you, Hawke!”

Hawke grins, shoving three more tacos into their mouth at an extremely alarming rate. The rest of the tacos are piled up in the center of the table, besides the ones in front of Hawke, waiting to be consumed.

At taco number 8, Isabella croons, “you feeling a little… nauseated yet, Hawke?”

Hawke snorts and opens up the ninth. “Not even a little.”

By nine and ten, Anders is sure that if Hawke won’t be sick, he will be. Where did all those tacos go?

And by then, it’s like none of them can look away. They all watch in a mix of horror, amazement and disgust as Hawke puts away the last four tacos. It actually all made sense now, Hawke being Kirkwall’s “Champion.” Hawke, the champion Kirkwall deserved.

“Hahah! take that, Aveline!” Hawke says through the last bite of Taco 14. “I’m impressed,” she admits. “Disgusted, but also impressed.”

Isabela concedes defeat to Merrill, who is very excited to take her taco winnings to her neighbors. Yay, she gets to feed the alienage children!

Everyone slowly files outside, with Hawke and Fenris bringing up the rear. Hawke pauses, and lets the door close. Fenris begins to ask a question, but Hawke interrupts.

“Hold up one sec.”

Hawke turns, and pukes into the conveniently located garbage can.

“Tell no one.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

**Author's Note:**

> A normal human 20-something year old can eat about seven crunchy tacos and a cheesy melty burrito with only mild discomfort. It's a proven fact proven by science and a couple of stomach aches. 
> 
> (what do you mean "it's not science", we wrote it down, of course it's science.)
> 
> What we do for fic, am I right or am I right?


End file.
